Rainbow
by our dancing days
Summary: Seven Weasleys who weren't Sorted into Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. / next-gen collection.
1. Azure

**Title: **Rainbow

**Character: **Molly Weasley (II).

**Summary: **Seven Weasleys who weren't Sorted into Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. Next-Gen one-shots.

**Notes: **This is going to be a one-shot series about seven Next-Gen Weasley family members who weren't Sorted in Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. You will eventually know who will be in what house, but for now, I'm holding my tongue. I think this story is going to be some of my best work - the second chapter is already written - and I _will_ take suggestions for any pairings. Finally, though, I really hope you enjoy!

* * *

Molly Weasley is _beautiful._

There's no other word for it. She is contradictory and perfect and useless and _brilliant. _She's that perfect shade of azure that captivates and compels and _sickens you. _She's beautiful.

She wakes one morning to her Hogwarts letter; all cream coloured parchment and swirly emerald writing and full of all those promises. Molly cries and she laughs, and her mother stares at her, and asks, _"What, did you think you weren't getting one?" _

Her father doesn't say anything but a stiff congratulations, but Molly doesn't mind.

She twirls around her room on light feet, and dances over to her trunk and packs a thousand more times. She checks her reflection in the mirror, stares at her auburn, fly-away curls and resents them slightly.

But she brushes that feeling off, because she's Molly Weasley, and she's _going to Hogwarts, _so she doesn't have time to ponder over cynical thoughts.

Molly hops onto the big red steam train, and they all wave her off. She's not the first Weasley - not by a mile - but it's the last year with no Potters at Hogwarts, so Molly decides to make the most of it. She finds a carriage and some new friends who all think they're going to be Gryffindors too.

Her new friends were right; they _are _Gryffindors.

Molly's not.

The Hat touches her head and calls out, _"RAVENCLAW!" _before she has any chance to argue; any chance to say, _"No, you must have made some mistake. I'm Molly Weasley; _Molly Weasley. _I can't be a Ravenclaw, Mr Hat, sir, I really just can't. There must have been a mistake." _

But after all, Molly's just a pretty little afterthought, and she's not worth the discussion.

She walks over to the Ravenclaw table, and she can still see Victoire staring at her from across the room, in all her Gryffindor glory, and Molly feels so small in her Ravenclaw rags. Even Teddy, lovely Teddy, looks a little disappointed.

Still, Molly's not one for showing her feelings, so she laughs and she jokes with various Ravenclaws, and waves shyly to the Scamander brothers across from her. They wave back, with identical grins, and she thinks that maybe she belongs here.

When Molly returns home for the summer, the family's a bit awkward around her - she's the second oldest Weasley, you see, and not even Gryffindor?

Something's gone wrong.

But they're nice enough and little Lucy still holds out her arms for a hug when Molly comes through the door, but she's too young to understand. She can only just say _Mowy, _let alone _Ravenclaw traitor. _

Molly takes up Muggle ballet lessons to pass the time.

Back on the train again, she talks quietly with her friend Blanca, a lovely Spanish Muggleborn girl who's still trying to get her head around Quidditch. It's almost normal, to be back in that carriage, and even when the Scamander twins burst in, all Molly can do is laugh and show them her azure ballet shoes.

They don't know what ballet is, of course, but she doesn't mind. Lysander even asks her for a dance.

Molly spends her second year practising pirouettes in abandoned classrooms, and working on her dance routines. She breaks her ankle half way through the final term, and Lysander finds her and takes her to the Hospital Wing, but Madame Delacour (her cousin Victoire's aunt, actually) patches her up in a jiffy, as long as she promises to lay off the dancing for a while.

She doesn't.

Lysander takes away Molly's favourite azure ballet shoes, but it doesn't stop her.

Maybe her daddy's negligence messed her up; maybe her mummy's false promises broke her. Molly doesn't have anything compared to her cousins' and her family's fame, and maybe she's jealous.

Maybe she's just Molly Weasley, and it's not in her to be normal.

Third year means Molly's first boyfriend, and her first kiss - little Eddie Bateson, a blond, halfblood boy with a pretty smile and wide brown eyes. Molly kind-of-almost-maybe loves him.

But it doesn't last, of course, and passes swiftly, and Molly can't really say that she misses it. She kind-of-almost-maybe just liked him, anyway. She doesn't know what love feels like; how could she, after all? She's only thirteen.

In the Christmas of her fourth year, Molly has her first performance, in a little Muggle theatre in a town just outside of London - the Gordon Craig Theatre.

She shines on the stage, and she almost _belongs _there, behind heavy red curtains and in front of thundering applause. Molly has found her home, amongst dance rehearsals and background lights, and she _loves it._

Her parents, though, are less than pleased, and they think that she could do _so much more _than just dancing for Muggles on a wooden stage with mediocre lighting and sore feet.

But they don't understand; Molly loves every part of it, and "_N__o, Dad, I won't work at the Ministry with you," _and, "_N__o, Mum, I don't want to try out for the Quidditch team."_

Lucy still asks Molly to play with her dolls, though, and gives her the princess with the azure dress as she holds the one in the jade.

Molly's good with Lucy, and she knows it. She's always had younger cousins, after all - James and Dominique came a year after her, and then Roxanne two years after that - and Roxanne starts a whole chain of it, with Albus and Rose coming a year after her, then Fred the next year, and Lily and Hugo the next.

There's a gap the span of two years before Louis comes, and when Lucy is born the year after, Molly's nine and already has nine younger cousins.

It's hard, growing up in a family like theirs.

But it's worth it.

By the end of the first term in her fifth year, Molly gains a little bit of a reputation.

It's all only rumours, of course, because Molly's a Ravenclaw and she knows better than to feed the fire, but there's gossip spreading all the same. _"And did you know, pretty Molly Weasley was caught in bed with her cousin's boyfriend, her best friend's boyfriend, her enemy's boyfriend, the gamekeeper, the Quidditch instructor, the Potions teacher..."_

Of course, it doesn't last.

She doesn't know how these rumours started, but Molly is determined to be the one to stop them; so she settles down with a steady boyfriend, Lukas Macmillan, and it almost lasts the whole year.

Her father's happy - _"He's a nice lad, good for you, that one. I'm proud." - _and her mother's excited - _"Oh, and I can't wait to meet him, Molly; I still remember introducing Percy to your grandparents!" - _and Lucy's confused - _"But, why would you want to kiss a _boy?"

And Molly's over-the-moon, because Lukas is handsome and he's kind, and he's so unlike all those other boys that came before him - _but shh, don't tell!_

But then Molly catches him snogging sweet little Blanca, and she doesn't date again.

In sixth year, she doesn't try so hard. Her grades drop, and she knows it, and her friends dwindle away, scared to be hexed like Blanca was - Molly does know _something, _after all - and no boys ask her to Hogsmeade anymore.

She doesn't feel very beautiful.

It's like there's a little raincloud above Molly's head, and no one can bear to go near her without an umbrella to protect them.

She dances like there's no tomorrow, and escapes, day after day, to perform in that little Muggle theatre just outside of London.

One day, the last day of her sixth year, it's Molly's final performance of one particular show, and it's her favourite, so she dances her little heart out. Her azure dress shines under the mediocre lighting, and the dancers she's kind-of-almost-maybe friends with give their all around her too.

It's their best dance yet, and they know it.

Molly has a fake beam on her face and is panting heavily by the end, her toes - _good toes, naughty toes, good toes, naughty toes - _aching and her heart pounding. Somebody throws a bouquet and, in surprise, Molly catches it.

It's very pretty; little white roses tied with a little blue bow and -

Wait a second.

Two perfectly miniature azure ballet shoes hang from the ribbon, glinting mysteriously, with that little extra bit of (magic) sparkle. Lysander waves at her from the crowd, and Molly gasps, but smiles - a real one this time - and waves back. She takes a bow, then rushes down the steps of the stage, ignoring all protocol as she does so, and flies into Lysander's arms.

He's taken down his umbrella.

Seventh year returns, and as Molly stumbles in the Scamanders' carriage, a big grin on her face and her hair tied back in an azure bow, Lorcan shouts, _"MOLLY'S BACK!" _

And a few of her old friends that she neglected in sixth year pop their heads in and grin at her, and Blanca asks where she's been, and doesn't she know that Mummy Lorcan has been worried sick, and why couldn't she have sent a postcard?

(It turns out that Molly's ex-boyfriend Lukas did most of the kissing, and Blanca thoroughly cursed him afterwards. It's just that Molly hexed her on sight all last year, so she never got a chance to explain).

Which is all pretty brilliant, actually, but then Lysander kisses her, and that's even better.

Seventh year passes in a twirl of NEWTs and kisses and friendships, and Molly cries her heart out when they leave Hogwarts for the last time. On their last day, though, she punches Lukas in the jaw, kisses not-so-little Eddie on the cheek, and gets on the Hogwarts Express hand in hand with Lysander.

Molly graduates and works her robes off, dancing all hours of the day and night, and spending the rest of her time with Lysander. Lorcan travels the world, Blanca plays professional Quidditch, and Lucy starts Hogwarts.

She becomes a renowned dancer; both in the Muggle world and the Wizarding, and they all say, _that Molly Weasley, she's really something, isn't she?_

And when Molly has enough money at the age of twenty-one, she buys the Gordon Craig theatre, just outside of London.

Lysander comes and sees her perform, and when Molly gives up full-time dancing by the time she's twenty three- inevitably, it seems, because no one can dance and hide forever - she trains little Wizarding girls.

Lucy comes too, and she helps out a bit, though she knows she doesn't have the grace or the patience to be a ballet dancer.

Molly doesn't mind, though. At least Lucy tries.

Dad is happy for her - though he still drops hints about the Ministry - and Mum is happier for her - and she stops dropping off Quidditch magazines - and Lucy is just happy.

Lysander and the family take Molly to her first proper Quidditch game when she's twenty five, after one of her debut performances, on the 29th of February - Roxanne's fiancé's playing, a Chaser for the Appleby Arrows. Molly proposes to Lysander there and then.

He says yes, and the Appleby fans shout as one of the players dressed in azure scores. All her family - and Lorcan, of course - hug her and cheer and the noise is lost in the crowd.

In the end, they're Molly and Lysander Scamander, and in their own way, _they're beautiful. _


	2. Amber

**Title: **Rainbow

**Character: **Roxanne Weasley.

**Summary: **Seven Weasleys who weren't Sorted into Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. Next-Gen drabbles.

**Notes: **Thank you for the _amazing _response to the last chapter! You guys are brilliant! Just a warning, though: there is _femmeslash _in this chapter. It's only minor; not even a kiss. I feel bad now. Should we let them kiss? Okay, there's now _one _kiss. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Roxanne Weasley is a _firework._

She's bright and blaring and she stands out from the crowd; she shines in shades of amber and _oh, _how she shines.

She plays pranks on her father - George Weasley, bested only by the best - and laughs with her brother - Freddie Weasley the Second, just second best - and she is a whirlwind of colour and light.

She is Roxanne Weasley, after all; she's the best.

Roxanne gets on the train with her dark brown hair tied up in a scarlet bow - Gryffindor runs in their family, don't you know? - and her ruby shoes laced to perfection - Gryffindor runs in her veins, don't you know?

But the Hat still calls out, "_HUFFLEPUFF!"_

So Roxanne doesn't back down - why should she? - and she wins points for Hufflepuff, and loses them too, and does it in a whirlwind of amber.

She's Roxanne Weasley, and she loves a challenge.

Her dad's disappointed - though she's not the first 'Puff, and she won't be the last - and her mum hides her guilt - thinks she could've done better - and Freddie doesn't care one bit because he loves her, remember?

But she belongs in Hufflepuff - Roxanne will always belong amongst yellow and black, ebony and amber - and even if she chooses not to come home for that first Christmas, it's okay, because remember; 'Puffs look after their own.

Roxanne goes home the summer after her first year, and she feels a tad disheartened, because her room is red, and it reminds her that her dormitory is not.

So she picks up her wand, and with a bit of under-age magic and fourth year spells, she spells patterns onto her walls. She makes the walls black, and adds fireworks of gold and white and amber.

It's the first time Roxanne thinks that paints can look pretty.

The summer flies by in a rush of art classes and easels, and before she knows it, Roxanne is back on that big red train, heading back to her black and yellow home.

Her friends think she's a bit different; a bit calmer, maybe, kinder. She's found a _"creative outlet" _as her therapist recommended when she was nine. Roxanne's found something she can _do, _rather than mimic her father's pranks and parrot back her mother's jokes.

Roxanne carries around her sketchbook all the time now; she always keeps a pencil behind one ear and a quill behind the other.

She's sent to Headmistress McGonagall after she doesn't pay attention in Charms for the third time in a row; instead, she draws the amber spells as they hit the small, glass vases on the tables.

Professor Flitwick ended up less than amused.

"Miss Weasley," the Headmistress greets her. Roxanne keeps her head down, her fingers fiddling with the quill behind her ear. It catches in her hair; she doesn't notice. McGonagall watches her as she pours some tea on the tray set out on her desk.

"Headmistress," Roxanne murmurs. She's no stranger to trouble, really. She just couldn't bare it if someone took away her sketchbook.

"May I see your drawing?" Roxanne splutters, but nods, and daintily hands over her sketchbook.

In the picture, the amber is a subtle contrast to the white of the paper, but she likes it. The ebony colour of the wand in the foreground is captivating.

It's probably her best piece of work, and she's just handing it over.

"That's extraordinary," McGonagall compliments her, turning the drawing on its side. "Quite extraordinary." She looks into Roxanne's eyes. "Maybe you could utilize your talents outside of the Charms classroom, perhaps? Professor Flitwick does like to make sure all his students know basic spells. He gets really quite offended if they don't try."

Roxanne nods sadly, and is, quite frankly, just a little scared.

After all, McGonagall has lived through three wars, and single handedly taken down more Death Eaters than she could probably count herself.

"Well, good luck with your art, Miss Weasley. Perhaps you could send a picture back to Professor Flitwick, as an apology? Not this one, but perhaps a nice landscape? Yes, I think Filius would quite like that. He always complains about not having enough colour in his office. A lovely, Muggle hanging could cure that immediately. Do try not to hurry back, Miss Weasley."

McGonagall looks at her pointedly. "You are allowed to leave."

Roxanne jumps out of her chair, and practically runs to the door, clutching her sketchbook for dear life.

Christmas rolls around again, and this time, Roxanne goes home.

Her bedroom hasn't been touched, which she's thankful for, but she's found that Freddie has painted his own walls black and white too.

"I'm going to add colour once I'm Sorted," he tells Roxanne secretively, once Mum and Dad have packed away the Christmas Dinner, and are cuddling on the threadbare sofa. "I think blue would go quite well. Or maybe yellow."

Roxanne's never been so proud of her little brother.

Her second year goes quickly, just spells and tests and _don't do this _and _don't do that, _and the next summer is even more uneventful that the first.

But when Roxanne returns for her third year, she waits for baited breath as for the name _Weasley _to be called again. It's been called twice, in fact, since Roxanne's time at Hogwarts, but the third almost overrides the other two anyway.

"_GRYFFINDOR!" _

Freddie shoots her an apologetic look, then turns to the Gryffindor table that screams and shouts and roars in applause. He looks quite sad. Roxanne knows that when people think, _Fred Weasley: Gryffindor, _they certainly don't think of little _Freddie Weasley the Second, _do they?

Her third year is a blur of Divination balls and amber stars, and Roxanne almost loves it. Almost.

Nothing changes much, but Freddie goes by Fred now.

(So she goes by Roxy; it's only right).

Fourth year means her first "boyfriend" - the Ravenclaw Matty Finnigan, coincidently - and her first _proper, full-out _crush - the Gryffindor Charlotte Goldstein, ironically - and also her first kiss.

(She still won't say who).

Roxy spends the summer working in her dad's shop, and she _hates _it; people expect her to revel in pranks like her father and uncle once did, and yes, maybe she did once, too, but now she's just Roxy.

She finds pranks tedious and not-quite-hilarious, but they all disagree as they ponder over love potions and the new range of Sickening Sweets.

"Roxy," her friend, Mariella, asks softly once they return for their fifth year. "Roxy, we're going to be sitting our OWLs in a few months. You need to study, not draw. We don't do Art at Hogwarts."

But Roxy doesn't care much; she loves her drawing and she _will not give up._

Maybe that's what got her into Hufflepuff in the first place.

OWLs come and go in a flash of fury and colour and panic - which smells like vinegar and is the same murky brown - and when she's sixteen, Roxy re-does the walls of her bedroom.

Roxy paints with proper paints, this time, not just spells. She writes her favourite words - _gold, amber, tragedy, secret, ironic, firework, challenge, star, whirlwind, subtle, Hufflepuff_ - and so many more, in different shades of yellow and black, silver and gold and bronze, and Roxy thinks it's quite beautiful.

Her mother walks into her room as she finishes the last word - _Freddie - _with a flick.

Angelina Weasley looks around the room, and then walks out, closing the door behind her. Roxy thinks she was smiling.

Sixth year, Roxy discovers drugs.

Of course, she's not stupid. She knows the rules; drugs are bad, say no to drugs. She knows the science; they wear down your brain, your liver, your lungs. She knows what they can do; destroy, discourage, _hurt. _

But they're so _brilliant_, and Roxy's not _addicted, _no. She just likes all those colours they create, and the world seems so much brighter when she's on crack, or meth, or heroine, or marijuana, or even cigarettes and Firewhiskey.

Fred catches her, of course, and he shouts and screams and she tells him he _has no right, _because he's a goddamn Gryffindor and what the hell would he know anyway?

He's only fourteen, after all.

Seventh year, Roxy stops.

She stops the drugs - the crack, the cigarettes, the Firewhiskey - and she stops going by Roxy. She goes by Anna now. She stops the art.

Anna works hard - like all Hufflepuffs are supposed to do - and she gets good grades, excellent grades in fact, and Mariella doesn't worry anymore. Daddy's proud to have a 'Puff daughter, and Mummy doesn't feel guilty anymore.

(And Fred doesn't love her).

Anna graduates from Hogwarts with six exemplary NEWTs and a promise of an apprenticeship at Gringotts with her Uncle Bill.

But, when she's nineteen, she meets up with tall, brown-haired Charlotte Goldstein, the girl who wasn't really her friend, but Anna had a crush on for well over a year (not that Charlotte noticed, and anyway, Anna was just going through a phase).

((Right?))

They talk over Butterbeer - Charlotte's a top Quidditch player now, a Chaser on the reserve team of the Appleby Arrows - and they arrange to meet again. And again. And again.

Anna kisses her on her twentieth birthday, gathering her courage like she couldn't do when she was fourteen. Charlotte kisses her back.

(She goes by Annie now).

Annie starts up her art again, and she realises just how much she misses it. She moves in with Charlotte and tells her parents that she's found a boyfriend called Charlie, because no, she's not a lesbian - bi, more like it - but labels will get placed on her no matter what, and Annie's already the disappointment compared to her popular Gryffindor brother.

Fred graduates Hogwarts with three mediocre NEWTs and a part-time job in their dad's shop.

She sells a few of her sketches, all black and white, and Annie's never had that amount of money all at once. She makes a career out of it; leaves Gringotts and sets up an art studio. Annie's almost famous, now. It's a nice feeling.

Annie makes a poster for Charlotte's first proper Quidditch match - which they win - and Charlotte proposes.

She says yes, of course.

She tells Mariella, first - Mariella, who stood beside her when she was Roxanne, a little prankster discovering herself, and when she was Roxy, a rebel with one too many addictions, and when she was Anna, a studious little girl who didn't know what she was doing.

And she stands beside her when she's Annie, an artist with a big heart and a fiancée and a life she loves.

Mariella is Annie's maid-of-honour, dressed in amber and white and gold.

Then she tells her cousins - all eleven of them, because Teddy counts too - who are shocked, of course, but demand tickets to Charlotte's next match and welcome her with open arms.

Annie tells her parents.

Her dad despairs - though she's not the first not to continue the Weasley line, and she won't be the last - and her mum feels guilty - perhaps, she could have done better? - but they get over it.

They always do.

She doesn't tell Fred. Fred, who's gone AWOL and doesn't speak to anyone in the family but James and Louis now. By unspoken oath, James and Louis don't tell him anything other than that Annie's got a better half, now, a Quidditch player too. He doesn't ask many questions.

On Annie's wedding day, Fred waits by the doors of the church, and he says, "Well, Grandma Weasley's going to have enough great-grandchildren anyway."

It's the best day of her life. She wishes she could paint in her dress, but Charlotte won't let her, probably with good reason.

Mariella looks stunning in her amber and gold and Fred stares a bit too long.

It's a nice life, the best life, and two years later, Annie goes by a different name altogether: Mummy.

Annie finally does another picture of words and fireworks, like the one that used to be on her wall, using italics and watercolours; she uses red, and gold, and amber, and brown, and _Charlotte _and _Mariella _and _Fred _and _Annie. _And she loves it too much to sell it. Charlotte hangs it on their wall, and they don't speak of it again.

They're Charlotte and Annie Goldstein-Weasley, and hell, don't you know they _shine?_


	3. Harlequin

**Title: **Rainbow

**Character: **Albus Severus Potter.

**Summary: **Seven Weasleys who weren't Sorted into Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. Next-Gen drabbles.

**Notes: **I'm so sorry that this is a later response than usual; life has been uncommonly hectic, and I haven't found time to write! Blasphemy, I know. Hopefully the next chapter will be up a lot quicker and better than this one as we slowly count down to the one Weasley who wasn't Sorted... This one is a bit more predictable, but I sincerely hope you enjoy!

* * *

Albus Severus Potter is _brilliant._

He just... _is. _

He's handsome - of course he is, he's just like his father, don't you know? - and he's brave - a Gryffindor to the core, who could expect anything else - and he's intelligent - almost a Ravenclaw, that one, but he won't be, surely? - and he does a mean Bat-Bogey Hex, of course - his mother's Ginny Weasley, do you remember?

Albus is brilliant and daring and, okay, he's shy, and he's bitter, and he's _corrupt; _but that doesn't show yet, because don't you know he's just eleven?

His brother is oh-so-perfect James Potter, but James is arrogant, and he's a rebel, and Albus won't ever be that.

His sister is oh-so-perfect Lily Potter, but she's too grown up for her age and never had a childhood, so Albus won't end up like her.

His parents are oh-so-perfect Harry and Ginny Potter, but they're getting a divorce, did you know? Didn't work out, they said. Never meant to be, they said. Parted on good terms, though, still friends. Friends who fight and shout and scream and can't stand to be in the same room as each other.

But the Prophet never lies, so why would you believe that?

Albus leaves his father behind, waving from the station, and sits alone in his carriage. His brother James has other friends, another life, and he is not James Potter.

He sits on the stool, and he feels a bit braver, a bit bolder, knowing that his Daddy won't care if Albus is put in Slytherin. Does that make him more of a Gryffindor? He hopes so. Oh, how he hopes so.

"SLYTHERIN!"

But it's still not Gryffindor, and Albus can't help but feel a little disappointed.

James doesn't talk to him for a week, but eventually finds him again, wraps him in a hug and tells him he's an idiot. He says Care of Magical Creatures is boring, but Divination is exciting, and third year's definitely going to be the best, now that his little brother's home, where he belongs.

Albus nods and smiles, like he's expected to, and pretends like he doesn't want to wear red. The harlequin in his eyes says otherwise.

He survives in Slytherin, though, with a mix of cunning, bribes, the Potter name and just being _Albus. _He changes a bit, over the year; James asks what's wrong. Albus blanks him with pride, and returns to silver and green with a smile.

"He's so distant," Lily sings when they return for the summer, and James grunts - a typical stereotypical Quidditch player grunt - "We don't know him anymore."

But Albus is _daring, _and Albus is _brave... _he just belongs in Slytherin.

Second year is a flash of harlequin and gold, but Albus is at home here, with aloof Imogen Parkinson, intelligent Raquel Pucey, sly Rory Zabini and maybe even handsome Scorpius Malfoy.

Albus meets more people than last year - friends in his house, enemies in his house, and alliances in the others - and it seems as though being in Slytherin is just a game of chess. You play til you win... or your own king falls.

He has _connections _now; not just _Harry Potter _and so on, but real connections, with underground missionaries and contacts and fake IDs.

Albus Severus Potter has made a name for himself, carved in harlequin stone.

Third year means Lily Potter and playing with the _big boys _now; Albus tries out for the Quidditch team and ends up as a Beater. It isn't his first choice, but they say he's got potential, he's got talent, and that's good enough for him.

"Al," Scorpius says, when Albus falls in too deep and almost drags little Lily with him, "I think you've gone too far. The Parkinsons and Zabinis are one thing, but my dad, Al? My _grandfather? _You don't know what they're capable of, mate. You can't get anything from them but a broken home life, broken nose, and broke bank account."

"Apart from I've already got the wrecked home life, it's not my bank account, and a broken nose is just part of the deal," Albus replies, but it's empty.

If Scorpius Malfoy can see through him, he's in trouble.

He spends the summer holidays of third year stepping up his Potions effort. Albus figures that, if he can't rule the world, he can at least rule some of it.

Some of his products, Albus sells on the market - the black market, of course - and others he stores, ready for later. He invents and creates and the world is his oyster, here in his smoky room with just a cauldron for company.

But it's not a bad life.

Fourth year begins, and the teachers remain suspicious and the other students scared, but what can Albus say? It's good business. Illegal, but good.

Christmas of fourth year is - for lack of a better word - hectic. Albus' parents _may _have found his secret stash of highly illegal Potions ingredients and wide array of equally illegal Muggle drugs.

Albus doesn't return to Hogwarts for the rest of the year - the rumours he _does _return to are surprisingly inventive and he almost feels proud of his harlequin house - and spends it being homeschooled with frequent visits from both magic and Muggle therapists.

Fifth year is surprisingly uneventful.

He sleeps his way through the Slytherin quarter of his year - only the girls though, Albus won't go that far for rebellion - and the year below... and he's half way through the year above by the time Easter rolls around.

It's in the summer holidays before sixth year when Albus escapes Grimmauld Place, Dad's house now - darling Daddy dearest, who's having an affair with some posh twat he won't tell anyone about - and roams around London, sitting in cafe's and bookshops and pretending that he's worth something.

Then he meets Cassidy.

Cassidy lives just outside London, and is _absolutely gorgeous. _Her blonde hair is out of control, she wears harlequin glasses, she doesn't have dimples, and her obsession is Muggle literature, of the mystery and fantasy persuasion.

Because Cassidy is a Muggle.

She spends summer days telling Albus about Muggle Chemistry and Physics and suddenly, Potions becomes something else entirely.

It becomes more than a business, and more like a... _hobby._

They write letters weekly - Albus sneaks down to Hogsmeade every Friday and posts his letters in the Muggle post-box kept there for the Muggleborn students - and everyone is surprised. Because Albus stops. He stops his complex, ever-growing underground system, he stops slowly taking over Hogwarts, and he stops the drugs; not completely, of course, but enough for people to notice.

Albus gets his life back on track, one way or another, and doesn't hold press interviews or photo shoots and runs away from cameras rather than chasing them with his middle finger raised.

Sixth year flies by and he can never really tell you why.

Lily's labelled as crazy and James hasn't written in weeks, but Albus doesn't have the heart to ask _why._

Seventh year begins, and times runs away with him. NEWTs loom and he almost panicks - he loses thousands of galleons in the process and stops writing to Cassidy.

He sleep round Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and tries to forget about the Muggle girl from just outside of London.

It doesn't work.

Albus runs away, though, on his last Christmas Day at Hogwarts, and eats Brussels sprouts and turkey at Cassidy's house with her Muggle family and little Muggle house in her little Muggle street just outside of London.

She doesn't like him because he's a Potter, or because he's a Slytherin, but because he's _Albus. _She doesn't know about the war, and if Albus has his way, she never will.

He returns home for Boxing Day and his mum cries, but for some reason, Albus can't stop smiling.

Albus eventually gets onto the Hogwarts Express for the last time and sits with warm Imogen Parkinson, caring Raquel Pucey, cheerful Rory Zabini and intelligent Scorpius Malfoy. He's in his element.

He's going home.

He carries on Potions after school, and his complex underground system becomes something more - Albus' Potions are now legendary, the best in the trade, and his parents are almost proud. He sells them world-wide, and creates new ones and maybe even cures lycanthropy, if he dares to hope.

Cassidy smiles when she sees him and asks how his day was, and Albus lies every time because _he just can't tell her. _

James asks him why he's pretending.

But one day, he holds Cassidy's hand and he tells her _everything; _about the world she'll never be a part of, a war she didn't live through, and about a boy she thought she knew. Cassidy stays with him, though. It's more than Albus could've hoped for.

And when she meets his parents, Cassidy looks Harry in his harlequin eyes and tells him to be proud of his son, no matter what.

Albus falls in love with her that day, and never gets back up.

Cassidy's a Muggle and she doesn't understand their world, and maybe she never will, and Albus is famous when he doesn't want to be, and he's amazing at Potions and a narcissist and corrupt.

But, in the end, they're Albus and Cassidy Potter, and they are _brilliant. _


	4. Emerald

**Title: **Rainbow

**Character: **Lily Luna Potter

**Summary: **Seven Weasleys who weren't Sorted into Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. Next-Gen drabbles.

**Notes: **_So _sorry for the late update; it's currently 12 o'clock right now, but I was so eager to post this. I _will _reply to all of the reviews to the previous chapter tomorrow - promise! The aim of this story is to address a lot of teenage issues, and this addresses more than just a few, so I sincerely hope you take a lot from it, and enjoy.

* * *

Lily Potter is... _insane._

She's a twisted flash of eccentric summer smiles and wide brown eyes, flyway auburn hair and emerald writings on her wrists. She's a personification of promises and _being yourself,_ and Auntie Luna would be proud, sweetie, because Lily Luna Potter is _special. _

Her Daddy loves her - because he never got to be her, and maybe she has a chance - and her Mum's proud of her - her little Lily Luna, she's going places, going _far - _and her brothers admire her - she's their annoying little brat of a sister, but they've got it better than most - and Lily doesn't care either way, because she's _Lily._

Maybe she shouldn't tap out the rhythms in her head, or talk about Nargles, and maybe her socks should match, but who cares?

Lily's only eleven; she's got time to grow up.

First year begins, and as Lily sits on the old stool, Professor McGonagall hovering over her with a smile, she feels stuck in the middle. James on one side - glowing Gryffindor gold and rebellious red - and Albus on the other - sly Slytherin silver and gorgeous green - and plain little Lily, caught between the two.

She realises that this is what the world looks like when you have no clue what you're doing.

"_SLYTHERIN!"_

Lily almost expected Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff; one of those little pointless houses that people congratulate you for. But it's Slytherin, and she sees the Hat's point, so she goes along with the tide and hopes that she won't go under.

She can't swim.

First year flies by and Lily learns that her big-brother Al (an empty, lonely boy) has a reputation here. He's _powerful, _not like at home, where he's awash with cousins and Weasley red. Here, they both shine _emerald._

The summer after, Lily brushes up on her Quidditch - there are two openings in the autumn, a Chaser and a Keeper, and she wants that Chaser position so bad she thinks her heart might snap, just like her sanity. She writes all over her new broom and her mother shouts at her and James garbles something she can't understand.

But she's _Lily Potter, _and they should know better by now.

She's made for summer days and insanity.

Al is a Beater and self-proclaimed Slytherin prince, so Lily does get in at the start of her second year, but it's as a Keeper, not a Chaser.

It's kind of ironic, and she loves it.

Second year, and Lily decides to be herself. She sneaks into fifth-year Astronomy lessons - she learns all about the moon - and misses Transfiguration and writes all over her dorm walls. She writes phrases from her favourite Muggle literature - _'We're all mad here' _and _'To die would be an awfully big adventure' - _and she paints the quotes on her heart.

Her dorm-mates half love her and half hate her and Lily honestly can't tell the difference.

At Christmas lunch, Lily mutters about beetles under the table and how James' wings are falling off, but Mum and Daddy don't pay attention because they're fighting over who gets custody of the Brussels sprouts.

Then they find Al's stash of illegal potions and drugs and whatnot, so Lily happily fades into the background, and James forgets to ask what's wrong because he's too caught up in the _unforgivable_.

Third year rolls around, and James leaves school with a few more NEWTs than expected, no idea about his future and a promise to never come back.

All of Lily's friends are getting _boy_friends now, but Lily doesn't really see the point, apart from the kissing. Which is just a trading of saliva in the first place. She tells them that and they start to think that maybe Lily _is _crazy.

That summer, Lily runs away - the Daily Prophet just posted a front-page article about Mum and Daddy's _real _divorce and life has been hectic - and Al's too busy pulling disappearing acts and god knows what back alley James is in at the moment, so nobody really finds her.

Lily comes back, of course, and runs to her mother's arms, who tells her that Daddy's found someone else now but she doesn't care, really. Daddy's all Mum thinks about, years after the divorce papers were filed.

Lily thinks of summer and wonders if Mum's just as insane as she is.

Fourth year begins and Lily starts to climb her way up the social ladder. She just as insane as always, but she's _using _itnow, so she takes her place as Slytherin princess and kind of loves it.

Al hides behind some mask he's created over the summer and ignores the new round of cameras in their faces, but Lily learns to _enjoy _it and makes a scandal out of whatever she can. She becomes _associates_ with Scorpius, a boyfriend of Rosie's and a friend of Al's, and learns that you can still be alone in a crowded room.

It's maybe almost kind of sad.

Two weeks before the start of her fifth year, Lily sleeps with Scorpius, and vaguely thinks that he tastes like summer. She never tells Rosie, or Al, or even herself. She blocks it out of head until it's three months later and she's still throwing up in the bathroom.

She's fifteen, and pregnant, so what did you expect her to do?

Lily can't look after a baby; she can barely look after herself. She's insane - she belongs in a white room with white bed sheets and a straight jacket, not coloured walls and baby blankets and a _baby. _

So she has a Muggle abortion, and never tells Scorpius (or Rosie, or Al) and kind of almost maybe regrets it for the rest of her life.

Lily thinks she likes the name Summer.

Sixth year starts, and for once, Lily is the only Potter at Hogwarts. Hugo starts watching her a bit more - worried, she presumes - and she becomes a little more wild, a little more dangerous. She hangs Amelia Eckleston from the Astronomy tower for fun, and can't explain to Professor McGonagall _why._

She gets chucked off the Quidditch team and they never do find a better Keeper.

At Christmas - the usual family gathering, you understand, with a few hidden extras - Lily shags Lorcan Scamander, even though he's twenty-four, and regrets that, too.

Lily returns to her sixth year and falls apart, piece by piece, and thinks about her brothers - Al's cleaned up his act a bit, but it's only a matter of time before his girlfriend finds the heroine - and Jamsie dearie, well, the family don't talk about him, and her beloved parents - one insane, and one who never got a chance to be normal anyway.

They're all freaks in their own way, ever since Daddy got chucked in that cupboard.

Suddenly, it's her last year and Lily finds out that Rosie broke up with Scorpius over the summer- caught snogging some fifth year, can you believe it? - and she reinvents herself, not really thinking of anyone or anything in particular.

_Really._

She wears Muggle pantomime sunglasses and thigh-high, Muggle emerald combat boots and she makes a name for herself.

Lily stills sings 'Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds' at the breakfast table and sees dark things around the corners, but she's _Lily Potter, _darlin', and don't you know that she's the exception to every rule?

It's only her and Hugo and Louis and Lucy left now, and Louis' got problems of his own , Hugo's off in his own little world, Lucy's the new Hogwarts' princess-in-training, and Lily's _Lily. _

Seventh year drags its feet, and it's still only Halloween. Lily cries in a corner and pretends she has friends. Daddy is called, because the school is _concerned _for her (and they both know the only reason she's still there is because of the last name she didn't choose).

Daddy doesn't say anything, at all really, but traces the various-shaped scars that litter her forearms with something like reverence in his emerald eyes.

Then he tells her, quietly, that he hated summer, when he was younger. He liked autumn leaves and Hogwarts snow and maybe even springtime in Hogsmeade, but he hated summer.

Daddy says he changed his mind the day he met her, because she reminds him of summer, and he loves her, does she know?

Daddy always understands.

Lily tells him she's doing well (which means that she's really not) and that she'll get her act together (which tells him that she's _scared) _and says that Mum's cooking isn't a patch on his (which admits that she's missing him) and asks after Al (and doesn't mention James) and Daddy reads between the lines, and says, _"Okay."_

Lily sobs in his arms and thinks that maybe insanity is just a state of mind.

So she finishes Hogwarts with NEWTs in Charms and Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, and Lily's kind of happy with her lot.

She spends six months hunting down James and - well. She hunts down James and sits on his lap and asks him how he ended up the most normal of all of them. He laughs and asks Lily to stay, but she declines. She's said her piece, her work is done, and maybe Daddy will phone him with an open mind and maybe Mum will think of him with an open heart, and Al will come around, Jamsie, he will.

He will.

Lily promises to tell him a story, one day, of a little girl who falls in love with summer.

James says that all fairytales need a happy ending, so she can't tell him just yet.

She needs a career, Mum tells her the next summer when she still hasn't moved out, past staying out all night, painting her room black and emerald, and raiding the fridge at four A.M. The only things she's ever been good at are flying, breaking hearts and being _wild_.

So Lily chooses Quidditch.

She plays on the reserve team of the Appleby Arrows, and falls in love with the game all over again. She writes all over her broomstick in swirling emerald and begins to feel at home.

One of the girls Lily plays with - Charlie Something-Or-Other - tells her that they're getting a new manager for the reserves. A posh bloke, she says, with a funny little smirk and too much hair gel.

It can only be Scorpius Malfoy.

Scorpius is charming and gorgeous and ultimately _Slytherin, _but he's got a sensitive, determined side that seems to only come out when he's managing.

Lily falls a little bit in love with him, and you never know; maybe Scorpius falls a lot in love back.

Rosie's happy for them and Al can't really talk 'cause he's got that Muggle bird back home, and Charlie Something-Or-Other soon progresses into the main league and becomes Charlotte Goldstein-Weasley. Victoire and Hugo are less than accepting, but Lucy and Louis think it's _romantic. _

Fred says something about betraying Gryffindors everywhere but that Scorpius is good for her or some shit like that.

Ginny couldn't stop smiling.

Molly pinches Lily's cheeks and hugs Scorpius (though Lily can see the whispered threats and the way Scorpius pales) and Al says that he considered doing the big-brother speech, but bypasses it in favour of a clap on the shoulder and the promise to bring him to his knees if he hurts her.

"And not in the nice way," Al adds, and Lily slaps him, then turns to James, who hovers in the background now, accepted and forgiven, but still betrayed.

He says he wants to hear the story now; the story of a little girl with emerald writings on her wrist who fell in love with summer.

Lily looks at Scorpius and smiles her eccentric summer smile, and says, "_Promise."_


	5. Aureolin

**Title: **Rainbow

**Character: **Hugo Weasley

**Summary: **Seven Weasleys who weren't Sorted into Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. Next-Gen drabbles.

**Notes: **I'm currently working on my English and Triple Science coursework, whilst attempting to complete my Advent Calendar Challenge and do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month - add me as a buddy!) Anyway, that's the reason this update is so late (and possibly not my best) but thank you **so much **for all the support, and I _sincerely _hope you enjoy!

* * *

Hugo Weasley is _different._

He's controversial and critical and analytical, but he's _contradictory_ and he's clever and he's caring and you'll never know a better friend - brother - cousin - _boy. _He cares too much what other people think and - yes, yes, he _cares too much. _

Rosie's going places; Mummy's not so sure but Daddy's telling her to _go get 'em, tiger! _

Hugo's curled up near the fireplace with a fantasy novel; Mummy thinks he's going to be a Ravenclaw but Daddy's telling him to _go get some fresh air, for Merlin's sake, no - _don't do that, _Hugo, be a normal boy._

_Normal boy._

They say he's practically a _Squib - _even though that's forbidden territory now, especially after - well.

But Hugo gets his Hogwarts letter just the same; once he's alone in his little aureolin room, he sits on his bed and maybe, just maybe, starts to cry, because he's still not good enough.

"I'll get Hufflepuff, Rosie," Hugo whispers to his sister in the dead of the night, on the 31st of August. Because Hugo Weasley is _not good enough; _maybe he never will be. He isn't like the rest of his family; he isn't Teddy or James or Fred. He's not a Gryffindor.

"And?" Rose asks. "Roxanne's a Hufflepuff." They leave the rest unspoken, because Roxanne is _amazing _and she's _brilliant _and she may even be getting out of this family.

Anyway, Mummy's probably right; he'll probably be a Ravenclaw. Books and cleverness; well, what else does he have?

Hugo just wants Daddy to be proud of him. He wants to prove himself.

People forgot what happens behind closed doors because they have their own choices, their own lives, their own doors. Maybe he's clever, and maybe he's even going to try... But Hughie's not Rosie, however much he tries.

And Hugo sits on the stool and thinks of pride.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

He's still a little shocked; after all, Ravenclaw seemed most likely. Molly's a Ravenclaw; she seems happy, in her own little world of dance and music, Lysander Scamander and beauty.

But aureolin Hufflepuff is where he's placed, and aureolin Hufflepuff is where he belongs.

At Christmas, Mummy's still surprised and Daddy doesn't talk much; though he does say it's better than Slytherin. But he says it too loud, and Uncle Harry doesn't talk to him for weeks. Al and Lily are Slytherins. They're cousins; _family. _Hugo starts to think that maybe Daddy doesn't know best.

Hugo returns for the rest of his first year, and he even makes a few friends - Evangeline (who prefers Evie), and Caelan (who prefers not to talk at all).

Second year means secrets and snarky comments, and did you know, Hughie dear, that growing up isn't all fairytales and forks in the road?

It also means Rosie starting to flip her hair and paint on her smile, wear aureolin lipgloss and another's mask, and Hugo starts to feel as though he's slipping. After all, what kind of child can hang on that tight? Definitely not him. And definitely not Rosie.

Evie says _"it's a phase," _and Caelan's decided not to worry about girls until he can understand them; which will be _never, _so Hugo doesn't believe him.

Rosie lies and says she in all the magazines, and she says she's got a boyfriend, but Hugo knows better.

Right?

Third year begins, and suddenly - just like that - _girls _come into the picture. There are the stunning Ravenclaws (because we all know that they're not just brains), and the pretty Gryffindors (who are more than just pretty faces) and the breath taking Slytherins (who'll take your breath in a heartbeat if you offer it).

And aureolin Hufflepuffs, of course, who sit next to you in lessons and smile shy little smiles and maybe help you with your homework and say, _"Us Puffs have to stick together, right?" _

But Lily's getting lost in the tide and Hugo's cousins aren't his cousins anymore; they're the people he sees at Christmas and maybe birthdays, but not the ones he played hide and seek with when they were little, or the ones he told all his secrets to.

He doesn't try out for Quidditch, and Al maybe claps him on the shoulder as he walks past from the Slytherin tryouts, his broom held casually over his shoulder.

And Hugo sits in the stands and thinks of family.

He smiles for the rest of the day.

Fourth year, and Evie starts getting quiet and Caelan goes to Hogsmeade on dates with stunning Ravenclaws and pretty Gryffindors and friendly Hufflepuffs and _definitely _not Slytherins. Hugo _thinks - _thinks too much - and he comes up with so many scenarios it makes his head spin.

Just for a second, he gives up.

He has to escape the dormitory - and he can't go to the library where each book whispers _mother, _or the kitchen, where each house elf murmurs _father, _or even the Great Hall, where every student thinks _Rosie. _He sneaks into the prefects' baths.

He runs the tap and thinks of how many times he's let someone down.

And Hugo sits in the bath and thinks of suicide.

They return after Christmas, and who is Hugo to say anything?

Easter comes and goes and maybe - just maybe - Hugo kind of starts to stare too long at breath taking, not-so-aureolin Kathleen Greengrass (Daphne Greengrass never was one for being "tied down"). But not really.

Caelan almost steals Evie's voice (because she doesn't speak now and he speaks too much) and Hugo doesn't know who to talk to, because no one will listen to him. Rosie does photo shoots and Lily kisses whoever has a pair of lips, and Al...

He thinks that Al's getting his life back on track (maybe) but who knows with Al, really?

September, Fifth Year; Rosie's not Head Girl, but she's walking down red carpets in both the Muggle and magic worlds, so she doesn't need another tiara. Al is Head Boy and everyone knows it's so the Headmistress can keep a closer eye on him.

At Christmas (a time for _family)_, Dad shouts at Rosie - talks of "inappropriate" and "disappointed" and "think of your mother" - and Rosie shouts back - arguments of "friendships" and "fame" and "what would Uncle Harry think?"

Mum whispers with Hugo - murmurs of "education" and "romance" and "he's your _father, _Hugh" - and Hugo stays silent, because what would he say?

Would he say that Rosie's going to do what she likes, whether Dad likes it or not, and that Mum's accepted that now? Would he tell Mum that Dad doesn't mean it, but he _does? _

So Hugo says nothing, ponders over Kathleen Greengrass and waits.

They return after New Years, and Caelan proudly adds another notch on his aureolin bedpost - how can you be proud of _that? _- but doesn't say a word. Evie bursts in like a hurricane, swearing and fuming and making more noise than she has in weeks.

She screams _"disappointed" _and _"inappropriate" _and _"do you even know what you're doing?"_

Caelan, surprisingly, shouts right back, with things like, _"education" _and _"romance" _and _"maybe I can do what I like!" _

Hugo watches on and thinks of _friendships _and _fame _and how_ an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but at least it won't have to watch any longer. _Because Evie is in love with Caelan and Caelan doesn't notice, can't notice, because all those girls keep getting in the way.

And Hugo sits on the floor and thinks of love.

In sixth year, he vows to watch over Lily, but if Lily doesn't want to be watched... She disappears into the shadows and Hugo can't follow her because he's afraid of the dark.

This year, though, seems better, fuller, freer; Evie talks more and Caelan sleeps around less, and it seems alright, sure... Until Hugo and Evie walk into his dorm room to find Caelan fucking Kathleen Greengrass into the (_Hugo's) _mattress.

Hugo stands by the door and Evie leaves, and Caelan turns around with an apologetic smile. And Hugo opens his mouth - he wants to swear and fume and shout, but what right does he have?

He leaves, but he leaves it too long, because by the time he comes back to the dorm, Caelan is gone and the door to their bathroom is open.

He doesn't even check her pulse, or untie the rope, or even cry; Hugo just watches her swing, feet hovering above the ground, aureolin and silent, looking for all the world like she did when she was alive. And Hugo sits on his bed and thinks of breaking.

The school flutters and the Headmistress tries to keep it _hush hush, _at least until the morning. Caelan walks into the room and finds that Hugo hasn't moved.

"Jeez, who died?"

"Evie."

Seventh year begins, without Evie and without Caelan (who decides not to come back after summer), and everyone is silent - silent to remember the girl Evie had become and the boy Caelan used to be.

Except for Hugo.

Hugo flitters from person to person, offers his sympathies, his regrets. He gives more pats on the backs and empathetic gestures than he has in the entirety of his life.

He goes to study groups and he partners people in lessons who used to sit next to Evie; he doesn't _replace _her, never that, but rather expands and fills the gap where she used to be, pouring love and regrets and hope into it with pride.

Maybe Hugo even makes a name for himself.

One day, he finds Kathleen sobbing in one of the bathrooms, and she looks up at him, and says, "It was all my fault," because she is not stupid, by any means, and everyone _knew, _after all.

"I'd like to go home, now."

Hugo leads her to the Headmistress, and Kathleen hugs him before stepping into the Floo, the tears drying on her face and the shivers in her hands ceasing. He smiles brokenly as the green light flares, and he is left alone.

Slowly, he walks all the way up the Astronomy tower. He looks down, for a moment, before shaking his head.

And Hugo looks up at the aureolin sky and begins to cry.

Christmas comes, and Kathleen returns and Caelan doesn't; Hugo keeps going to study groups and their numbers grow. He's almost _popular, _now, and it's odd. But nice, in a way, that people like him for _him. _

They struggle through NEWTs and Kathleen kisses him, softly, and that kiss says all the things she couldn't, and all the things he wouldn't.

Rosie makes it big and falls in love - _Hugo always knew she would - _and Al introduces his girlfriend - _Cassandra, _Hugo thinks, _or something like that - _and Lily finds Quidditch again - _she always had it in her - _and piece by piece, their family spellotape the cracks and _Reparo _the breaks and kiss the stitches better.

Hugo leaves school with a fond smile and a haunted past, and starts anew. His mum doesn't trust Kathleen, but Dad gets on with her well, surprisingly, and she teaches him a few things too.

Caelan sends an owl.

And Hugo sits on his window ledge and thinks of the future.

He moves out of the house and in with Kathleen, and he keeps a Muggle picture of Evie laughing on the mantelpiece. Every time he walks past it he swears it waves, and Kathleen doesn't say anything, but smiles, as if it's a secret.

Hugo joins the Ministry - after his exemplary NEWTs, of course - and works his way up, and up, Kathleen glowing at his side and Caelan healing in the background and Evie probably watching over them all with a sarcastic smile.

He's next in line for Ministry of Magic, and no one even thinks to object.

They move on with life, even though Caelan doesn't talk quite so much and Kathleen shines in Slytherin silver and Hugo hangs on for the ride in Hufflepuff aureolin.

He finds that he doesn't mind.

Because Hugo is different and contradictory and he cares too much, but Kathleen is clichéd and careful and doesn't care at all; they balance each other out, like it was written in the stars by Evie herself. He sits hand in hand with the girl he intends to marry, and yes, growing up isn't all fairytales, but that doesn't mean he can't have one.

And Hugo stands up, and faces the world with a smile.


	6. Cerulean

**Title: **Rainbow

**Character: **Louis Weasley

**Summary: **Seven Weasleys who weren't Sorted into Gryffindor, and one who wasn't Sorted at all. Next-Gen drabbles.

**Notes: **I'm so sorry for the increasingly late updates, but I _do _have a portion of the next (and penultimate) chapter ready, so it should come quicker! Thank you so much to my lovely beta, **InkTeardrops,** who took the time to correct all of my mistakes. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Louis Weasley is... _difficult._

Ever since the age of eleven, he has drawn drama to him like a moth to a flame, spun lies out of cobwebs and fairy tales out of dust. Louis creates the _impossibly magical _out of the _believably ordinary. _It's a talent he won't learn to control for a while.

He's never been a normal boy; he's a _Weasley, _for gods' sakes, with golden hair and cerulean eyes and a shy smile and too many cousins to count (though it's ten, if you are).

Louis is going to either thrive or fall, at Hogwarts, but he's going to throw himself off of the Astronomy tower anyway and see how well his wings work.

He gets his Hogwarts letter (greeted with a hug and a sigh of relief, a tear and a mumble of confusion, all of which he ignores, and his mother strokes his head and tells him how _proud _she is) and prepares his trunk. He forgets socks and loses his wand, but nevertheless, by the time it's 10:59, he's sitting in a compartment opposite two people he doesn't get to know.

And to be honest, doesn't care to.

But he sits there and makes polite small talk, as he is wont to do, and accepts his fate.

Walking into the Great Hall, he takes a deep breath. He feels almost like a Muggleborn, realising that magic exists for the _first time._

Because magic exists here, in this hall, with smiling faces and friends and a sky that glows brighter than any spell. Magic thrives here, where failures vanish and are forgotten. The memorial plaque above the teachers' table is almost unreadable in all its bronzed glory.

Magic lives and dies at Hogwarts and Hogwarts alone. Louis thinks the rest of the world needs a little magic too.

"_Weasley, Louis!"_

Every head in the hall snaps up. He is one of the last Weasleys to be Sorted; one of the last to walk up and feel that rejection. He takes a deep breath. He isn't ready for this; the humiliation of Hufflepuff, however happy his cousins there are; the scorn of Slytherin, however special the Potter children are; the rejection of Ravenclaw, however radiant they are.

Louis isn't ready for the glory of Gryffindor, because he has seen the broken smiles of the family who have given in, who have led their way into traditions and their parents' names. He doesn't want to join the damned.

He isn't ready.

"_RAVENCLAW!"_

However, he isn't surprised.

The first term goes quickly, and when he gets home for Christmas, he goes to his cerulean room. And he cries.

He cries all night, in a panicked way, not in a sombre way, and he feels like he can't breathe and he can't see and there is a _weight _crushing his chest and - and Louis wonders, for a second, if this is what it feels like to be insane.

Because when he was little, his parents took him to see Healers who asked for their autographs and gushed over Louis' pretty blonde hair.

So, instead, they took him to see Muggle doctors, who let him lie down on hard beds and said meaningful words like _"bipolar" _and _"schizophrenic" _and _"gender confusion," _and suggested things like _"drugs" _and _"sessions". _Louis just sat politely and listened and now he tries to forget.

Louis returns to Hogwarts unchanged - he mainly stays out of other people's ways, keeping to himself, burying himself in cerulean textbooks and fantasy novels and newspaper clippings of different times.

In the summer, Louis spends most of it in silence. His mother frets and his father is just as sombre, and his sisters send him worried, exasperated looks.

He doesn't eat much, over the course of the holiday. A lot of the time, he sits with his mother while she picks out colours for him to wear, and how _nice _it is he spends time with her, now that Victoire's left home and Dom -

Well, _Dom._

Dom, who gave up her family for a _love _she can't hope to understand. She dreams of brown eyes and Paris streets; she hasn't been home for weeks.

And so, his mother dulls in comparison, losing her fight, her spark, and still she frets.

When second year rolls about, Louis burns his books.

Instead, he goes to Quidditch games in cerulean blue and visits the house parties and though people still give him side-glances and whisper _bookworm _and _nerd _behind his back, Louis decides it's better this way.

Then he learns that those little glances mean _more _than just _nerd._

Louis learns, that year, that people don't forget and they certainly don't forget. People are little more than animals; they have lost their traditions and their kindness and their fires.

The little glances mean _insane. _He bows his head against the onslaught of whispers, and his hair starts to cover his face. He doesn't talk any longer.

And nobody ever forgets that.

Summer starts again, and his mother fusses over his hair - _too long, _she whispers sadly, stroking the blonde strands, _but so like mine. So like -_

Tears blur the cerulean and his mother bows her head, pressing kisses to his cheek and saying how _beautiful _he is.

Louis notices, when her shaking hand smoothes his trouser leg, that she only keeps two pictures on her night stand two pictures of little girls who have long since grown out of their little girl dresses and pigtails. They'd look just like him, if -

The gleam returns to his mother's eye, and who is he to say no?

And so, people at school begin to call him a _girl. _Louis has a feminine face, he knows that, with dark lashes and pink lips and pale cheeks. But he's a _boy_. Really. They say that's what happens when you grow up with _Veelas _in your family. They scoff and ask him why he continues to pretend.

And nobody ever forgets that.

Christmas comes - _they set the table for five, just in case, but eventually, only three seats are filled - _and once more, his mother looks Louis in the eye. She looks more alive than he can remember.

"Dear, how would you like to look prettier?"

She sets him down in front of her dressing table, and he shakes his head in the mirror, gently at first, then furiously, until he is shaking and crying and his mother holds him close. After that, he complies. He doesn't even cry when she adds blusher to his cheeks and sometimes calls him _"Dominique."_

The rest of the school year is hell, but Louis can't bear the thought of sitting down in front of his mother, the brave, beautiful Fleur Delacour turned desperate, insane Fleur Weasley, and telling her he's a _boy._

Until Louis gets home and his mother tilts her head, studying him. He sits down on a dining room chair and she tells him that ladies don't sit that way.

He screams and he shouts; he runs to the sink and scrubs off the make-up. He grabs the kitchen scissors and cuts chunks off his hair, cerulean eyes watering as he does so. Fleur does not watch silently; she shouts and she screams back; she tears the scissors out of his hands and throws them out the window.

It ends with both of them panting heavily, slumped on different sides of the kitchen.

Louis' father finds them, unmoved, an hour later. Gently, he picks up Fleur and places her on the sofa. Then he sits Louis down in one of the wooden chairs, takes out his wand, and fixes Louis' hair. It doesn't cover his face any more.

He can't hide behind the child his mother wanted to have.

Louis is still quiet when he gets back to school, for his fourth year - people still whisper, but it's more like, _did you hear about his mother? Went insane, she did. _Oh, _poor _Louis_..._

But the first term goes well; it's when Christmas ends, and Louis is placed with someone else for Transfiguration. A Gryffindor. Charles- Something. Charles- Something doesn't talk to him much, but Charles- Something is rude to the teachers and forgets his work and never stops moving, _ever._

He's utterly ridiculous and arrogant and - well, Louis is _entranced._

Charles- Something quickly evolves into _Charles Edgecombe, _a boy who smiles at Louis and makes his heart melt. _Charles Edgecombe _becomes _Charlie _in Louis' head, and a part of him knows he's done for.

The rest of him remains blissfully ignorant. But, like everything, it doesn't last long.

The hot, English summer comes and goes (his mother stays in her room, and doesn't come out for days). Fifth year begins without fireworks, but maybe with friends and something a little like young love. Then it all falls to pieces.

There are more whispers in the hallways - _Louis Weasley's got a crush on Charlie Edgecombe, can you believe it? - _and suddenly, Charlie- Something won't look at him anymore.

It gets better, slightly, because Charlie even smiles at him now, especially after Christmas, but Louis doesn't think that really matters. His friends still talk to him; they don't care if he's gay. His dad just shakes his head when he hears, from one of Louis' cousins, no doubt.

It was kind of expected, after all.

But Louis sits alone for most of the holidays, because, dear, when it comes down to it, Louis is fifteen years old, gay, and pretty much in love with a boy who can't stand to look him in the eyes.

(When Louis was five, he killed himself.)

He doesn't know what to do.

(He raised two fingers to his head.)

He can't be strong.

(He pulled the trigger.)

Not this time.

(And he whispered, _"Bang."_)

Sixth year begins, and it's the first time Louis goes to a party - he stays in the cerulean corner, whispers of _fag _and _did you know - _pushing him there, forcing him into the wall and furthest away from the other occupants in the room.

He gets a letter, half way through the term, to tell him that his mother's been admitted to a hospital. Somehow, Louis knows it's not somewhere as pedestrian as _St. Mungo's. _Not for his mother.

There is no one quite like his mother.

He doesn't go home for Christmas. A gorgeous, dramatic Gryffindor named Matthew Finnigan asks him what's wrong, one Transfiguration lesson when he won't look away from the blackboard. Louis looks at him back, stunned, and Matthew shrugs, ducks his head, and says, _"Was only asking."_

Louis hates himself when he realises that he's not over Charlie. Not at all.

(When Louis was seven, he killed the cat.)

And he should be; he really should be.

(He raised two fingers to its head.)

A crush doesn't last this long, does it?

(He pulled the trigger.)

Not just a crush.

(And he whispered, _"Bang," _as he knocked over the bookcase, so that it fell on old Tabitha. He'd screamed. Tabitha whimpered.)

When Louis returns home, his father sits him down at the table. He tells him what a good boy he's been - how _proud _he is, because Louis has been so _brave, _so _strong, _and he strokes his head and starts to cry. Louis sits there, motionless, when his father says mother won't be coming home for the summer.

They go and visit her, in her private hospital. The room is too white, aside from the cerulean tint on his mother's skin. It scares him.

His mother reaches out a hand and tells him how he's _grown._

She then plays with his hair and frets over how _short _it is, and how pale his face has grown. Louis tells her he likes it that way. He says that the girls at school like it too (not that he knows, because girls hold no interest to him, do they?) and his mother's eyebrows thread together in worry.

So Louis leans forward, ever so slowly, and whispers into her ear, _"What's my name, Mother?"_

She blinks up at him. Her mouth opens slightly, but she falters.

And screams.

The nurses come running in, tearing Louis away from the bedside and out of the room. His father is close to tears, but Louis' face is emotionless.

(When Louis was seven, he killed Dominique.)

That woman isn't his mother.

(He raised two fingers to her head.)

Not anymore.

(He pulled the trigger.)

Mothers recognise their children.

(And he whispered _"Bang," _and told her that he hated her. Her eyes haven't been the same since.)

Seventh year begins, and Louis talks more with Matthew - Charlie, who looks at him now, who doesn't say scathing comments to unsuspecting people who simply ask what's _happened, _is pushed back in his mind, because Charlie has never particularly cared about Louis. His cerulean eyes and cerulean smile have always been cold.

Louis just didn't see it.

Louis is just as quiet as usual, but sometimes, he adds his two Knuts and the class laugh. He's critical and sarcastic and a little bit bewildered, but _hey; _at least he's speaking, right?

Matthew - _Matt, _the boy insists, over and over - joins him at the Ravenclaw table, amongst cerulean and bronze. There are mutters, but then Matthew offers Louis his toast, so how the hell could Louis care?

Then, one day, the day before the Easter holidays, Matthew _kisses _him. He cups his jaw, clenches his fist in his hair, pushes Louis back into the wall (that cerulean corner), but his lips are soft, and hesitant. Questioning. Wondering. Forgiving.

Louis strokes Matthew's face, twists a strand of brown hair around his finger, lets him lean again his shoulder, and _nods._

When it's the end of the school year, Louis tells Matthew to move in with him.

Because he can return to his empty ghost of a house, with his strangely fragile father and cerulean lunatic mother and pictures of the people his sisters used to be. Or he can finally forget about the boy he was once in love with; the boy who rejected him because he was _scared._

He can find a flat, and move in with the marvellous boy who might even save him. Matthew agrees, on one condition - he leans close, his lips against Louis' ear, and whispers, _"Let me help you."_

(When Louis was eighteen, he saved himself.)

Louis hugs him close.

(He raised his hand to his mother.)

Maybe he cries.

(He waved his fingers.)

Matt doesn't let go.

(And he whispered, _"Goodbye."_)

Eventually, they are Matthew and Louis Finnigan, and just because they're _difficult, _doesn't mean they're not worth it.


End file.
